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PAUSE  FOE BREATH           ,                           85
like to be surrounded by people living on the smell of oil rags. To
put it at its lowest, it makes me feel socially embarrassed.
Last night a friend of A------inadvertently discovered the awful
truth about Hussein's wages and bounced into the room to de-
liver a long and:—I thought—extremely officious lecture on
'spoiling the market.5 I got very shaky and hot and said that if
I was spoiling the market I was delighted to hear it, and that the
sooner such markets were spoiled the better. The nurse broke up
the,argument by coming in with a thermometer, which registered
101- degrees of righteous indignation.
A young Indian student arrived, and said that he hoped that if
ever I wrote a book about India it would not contain quite so
many elementary mistakes as Louis Bromfield's. He reeled off a
number of instances, of which I can recall only two. Apparently,
in Night in- Bombay the hero sails into the harbour and sees the
'Elephanta Caves to the east and Juhu to the west. 'This would
only be possible if he had a high-powered telescope. And in the
film of The Rains Came the Maharajah wore a turban-that would
.only be worn by the lowest sweeper class, while the Maharani
went about bare-footed, wrhich is as unthinkable as Mrs. Roosevelt
addressing the Daughters of the American Revolution in pyjamas.